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Just five more weeks to go!

The little guy’s clothes for the first six months of his life have been washed and put away. And man, does he have a lot of clothes! Thanks to hand-me-downs from his cousin Rai, as well as gifts from friends, we haven’t had the need to purchase anything at all. Smart mama here only bought a couple of items for milestones like his one-month parties (yes, PARTIES, it’s going to be a logistical nightmare). Beyond his first three months of existence, erm, that’s a different story altogether.

His room is still empty, save for the bags of toys and necessities that are also passed on down by friends. My mother is firmly against me doing anything that involves putting things together – old wives’ tale and all – but I’m not fussed. The kid’s going to be sleeping with us for the first few months anyway, and Mr Thick can do up the room once the nugget is born.

Physically, things are going pretty okay. The posterior pelvic pain that I had been having comes and goes. As long as I am wearing my Birkenstocks and don’t walk too fast/much, the pain stays away. I’ve also noticed that blood tends to pool around my calves during the day (my legs turn bright red, like I’ve got a sunburn) but again, it’s nothing debilitating. Thankfully, I have my personal masseuse AKA Mr Thick, who rubs out the kinks and tightness EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. by running his knuckles over and over the length of my calves. It’s going to sound quite masochistic but the pain feels oh so good! Yeah, I am the sort who likes massages with that OUCH!#@^&#@%# factor.

We went over our birth plan with Dr Y over the weekend and he’s agreed to stick to my wishes as closely as he can. Which is pretty awesome because a) I am standing quite firmly behind my birth plan and b) there are many doctors out there who aren’t respectful of their patients’ wants.

Erm I suppose we still need to pack our hospital bag. And fit the little man’s car seat into the car. What else? I feel strangely calm but I am pretty sure that I am missing out on something!

And oh, THE NOSE. Check out my honker, people. If I head butted you, that nose might just crack YOUR nose.

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